To the Beat of Maureen
by NoGoodDeed99
Summary: A story following the relationship of Maureen Johnson and Joanne Jefferson. Extends for PreRENT to PostRENT. Rated M for voilence, language, sex, and drug content. MoJo
1. Chapter 1: I've Got to Meet That Girl

_Disclaimer: As you all well know, I do not own Rent or any of its characters. Thank you Jonathon Larson for such a beautiful story though. I do, however, claim any non-canon characters as my own. Yes, I was in fact able to muster up enough imagination to throw in a few characters of my own._

_Author's Notes: So this is my first fan fiction. -gasp- I know, it's scary. The story takes place PreRent all the way to PostRent. The story is based on Maureen and Joanne's relationship, with a hint of some other couples brewing in there. This story is rated M for language, possible violence, and sexual scenes between two woman. So with that, I give you To the Beat of Maureen!_

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_Chapter 1: I've got to meet that girl_

"December 1st, Five P.M. Eastern Standard Time. Maureen Johnson finds herself a little troubled after her protest takes a turn for the worst."

"Mark, get that stupid camera out of my face!"

Maureen's hand rose, covering the lens with her palm, her ringed fingers clasping around the camera. With a death glare, she shoved the contraption. The action caused the camera to slam right into Mark's glasses, breaking them in the process, and Mark stumbled at the sheer force Maureen pushed with. Cringing at the sound of the lens of his glasses cracking, he glared at Maureen once he had gained his balance.

Through a cracked right lens, the amateur filmmaker looked over his camera to inspect for damages. Maureen was already speeding away from him, her heels clicking against the sidewalk of Avenue A.

"Maureen," Mark called, his voice a mix of anger and concern. She was far off in her own world to notice him.

Barging into the loft, a startled Roger Davis peered up at her. "Uhm…Hi?" he offered, though the glare he received prevented him from saying more. Before Mark had even arrived Maureen was climbing out onto the fire escape.

"Where are you…" Roger stopped himself when he heard a growl escape Maureen's lips.

She moved up onto the roof. Angrily, she plopped down on the roof top, her face buried in her hands. _Why does this always have to happen?_ None of her protests were going the way they were supposed to. And this time seemed to be her worst fuck up yet.

The memory was vivid. She stood on the stage, dressed in her normal black, leather pants, a red tank-top that showed just little too much cleavage, a jean jacket around her shoulders, and a pair of black heels on her feet. Maureen was protesting a notice that a local coffee house was going to be demolished to make room for another office building. Everything was staged correctly; lights were on her, she stood center stage, the audience had quieted. Just when she was about to start the performance, right after she had cued Mark to lower the back drop, everything went wrong.

A few days prior to the show, Mark had asked Maureen specifically to adjust the roping on the back drop. Being Maureen, typical diva, she had blown that job off. She soon came to realize that was a bad idea. When the background lowered, not only did it come down too fast, but it collided with some of the lights that shown down on the make-shift stage. The fabric contacting the heat lit the material a blaze and before she knew it the whole damn stage was on fire. She hadn't even said a word!

"Stupid, stupid, stupid…"Maureen mumbled, hitting her head against her knees that were curled to her chest and were held their by her arms. She teeth gritted. The over whelming urge to cry caused a knot in her throat, but Maureen Johnson didn't cry.

"Hey Maureen," came a familiar voice. She groaned at the sound and just buried her face farther into her knees. Collins sat beside her, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulder. Maureen gladly leaned into him, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"Collins…I keep messing up," she admitted in an almost whining tone.

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?!"

"Why do you keep messing up? What's the problem?"

Maureen was silent. She pondered the question, her eyes closed. Her brows furrowed with concentration. The first image that came to mind was Mark. He was never around anymore. Always filming or taking care of Roger or doing whatever the hell he was doing. The only time she saw him was at night and for the first time in her life, Maureen needed something more than a good fuck.

The next image, was Roger. First he was hooked on drugs and then he got AIDS along with April. Not only that, but once April died he locked himself up. He never left the loft; never had fun; never tried to get over it. No, Roger Davis sat there like a lazy ass and attempt to kick his addiction. This caused Mark to be concerned and now Mark was more worried about Roger than he was about her.

Maureen couldn't help but wonder sometimes if Mark and Roger were secret lovers.

Shaking the thought, her mind came to Collins. He had his teaching gig up at MIT. Her best friend wasn't even around most of the time. The only reason he was here was for the weekend and soon enough he'd be off again. In all the years she had known Collins, she had never felt so betrayed by him. Sure it was just that he had a job and he was making a living, but he left his friends behind in the process.

And there it was; her problem. Maureen was a diva, a drama queen, a prima donna. She wasn't getting the attention she needed. Roger had never given her much attention, but he at least acknowledged her before and they could find themselves having a conversation. Now he sat around the apartment and only managed a 'hi' every now and again. Mark was always head over heels for her; following her, filming her, and loving every minutes with her. Now he was to distracted to be anything more than her production manager; she barely even got sex out of him now! Collins was always there for her. They would stay up all night talking, go partying, seek out hot girls and guys, and just do whatever the hell they felt like. Now he was too busy working on his theory of Actual Reality to give her the time of day. When he was gone, she got an occasional call for a half hour or so. But that wasn't nearly enough for this girl! No, she needed someone to give her attention.

A sigh escaped her lips. "I miss you. I miss Mark. Fuck…I even miss Roger," she admitted, her voice tired.

"Ever since April died everything's change. None of us just hang out anymore. We're not like we were. I can't even focus on my performances and then Mark has to shove his damn camera in my face!"

Collins let his hand rub her shoulder gently and nodded. He was feeling it to. Though he missed his friend terribly, he wasn't about to pass up his theory. Plus, he needed the money. He leaned his cheek against the top of Maureen's head.

"I just need a change…something different,"

"Now Maureen, don't do what you usually do and go have a bunch of flings. You know that won't go over well with Mark," Collins warned, glancing down at her.

Maureen's response was a 'humph'.

"Like he'd notice,"

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After a lengthy discussion of the past, Collins opted to go inside.

"It's getting cold out here. I'm going to head in," he told Maureen. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head before moving toward the fire escape.

"I'm going to stay out here for a bit," she replied. She watched him disappear and stood. It was nearly ten o'clock at that point. Mark had come to check on them at one point, but hurried off without more that five words to remind Roger to take his AZT.

Maureen's nose wrinkled at the thought and she crossed her arms. It was getting quite cold. She moved toward the edge of the building. Luckily, she was not scare of heights and the railing came up to her waist anyway. She leaned her forearms on the metal surface. Her eyes stared down at the street below. The Catscratch Club could be seen from here, as well as a multitude of other restaurants, clubs, and such.

What she wouldn't give to be shit faced right now. Maybe she could drowned her sorrows away with alcohol. And maybe Collins would even spare her a joint. Either way, Maureen stayed put, just staring out at New York City.

Her eyes fell to the street where people passed by carelessly. She noted a good amount of homeless people meandering around. That's when her eyes caught something. The sight was out of place and stuck out like a sore them. Maureen's perfectly arched brows settled into a furrow as she looked down at the woman.

The woman's skin was dark, obviously African American. She was dressed in business clothing. A black pair of slacks, a white, button-up shirt, a navy tie, a navy blazer, what seemed to be a designer purse, and an expensive looking pair of heels. Her hair was fashioned in tight ringlets. Her skin, at least from the distance, seemed flawless. Light make-up pampered her face. And being Maureen, she couldn't help but notice the figure.

Lips, painted with bright red lipstick, pulled into a wanting smirk. She watched the woman carefully as she moved down the street. Her composure seemed a bit flustered. Maureen's eyes gazed intently.

_I have to meet that girl…_


	2. Chapter 2: Lap Dance!

_Disclaimer: Don't own RENT simple as that_

_Author's Note: And here is chapter two. Thanks for the reading. Please feel free to offer any suggestions as to what should happen._

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_Chapter 2: Lap dance!_

So what in the world was this upper class woman doing down in East Village? Maureen was about to find out. Noting which direction the girl was headed in, Maureen took off. She was down the fire escape and making her way through the loft in no time flat.

Pretty boy Roger, was sitting on the couch with his legs crossed. His guitar was balanced on his knees and he seemed examining a broken string. Mark leaned against the table, his glasses held out before him. An irritated groan escaped him. Collins was leaning back in the chair. He held a mug and slowly sipped the hot, black coffee within.

Three sets of eyes locked on Maureen as she hurried into the apartment. She immediately threw off her jean jacket, not bothering to acknowledge any of them.

"What are you in such a hurry for?" Collins asked, eyeing the diva. Looking at him with a smile, she grabbed a slightly heavier white jacket.

"Just going out,"

"Where are you going?" Mark was quick to interject. His voice was obviously annoyed and he shot Maureen a glare.

Maureen rolled her eyes as she made her way toward the door. "Out," she replied before raising her middle finger to Mark and slipping out the front door.

Mark frowned. He didn't understand what her problem was, but Collins was quick to say something. Hearing Collins clear his throat, he turned to look at his friend.

"If you weren't such an ass about it, maybe Maureen would actually tell you where she was going,"

"Not be an ass? She broke my glasses,"

"Boo hoo," Roger mocked. He was still a bit sore from a fight he and Mark had had a few days earlier.

Collins shook his head. "All I'm saying is if you treat her like shit, she's going to do something both you and her will regret,"

Sighing, Mark rubbed his temples with his palms. Maureen was becoming more and more of a hassle.

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It only took a minute before Maureen was standing on the side walk, looking for that girl. She had placed her white jacket on, but left the front open to reveal her lower stomach exposed. Her eyes were quick to find what she was seeking and she smiled.

The woman had a bewildered look on her face as she glanced between the paper in her hands and the club before her. Maureen let her eyes fall on the Catscratch Club. Maybe this first class gal was looking for a good time. Unfortunately, from the look on her face, Maureen highly doubted it.

She slowly made her way over; taking her time to look over the woman's body. Coming to stand a few feet behind her, Maureen smirked.

"That's the Catscratch Club," she pointed out the obvious. Her voice must have startled the other woman because she jumped lightly. She slowly turned to face Maureen.

_Wow, she's hot._

"Yes..uhm…" the woman's voice trailed off. Even in the two simple syllables she sounded very professional.'

"I'm Maureen," she greeted before the other could say more. Her hands extended as she took a few steps forward. She couldn't help but notice the sweet smell of expensive perfume and let her eyes roll over the girl's body.

The other eyed Maureen's hand carefully. Brown eyes looked over the diva's body. Maureen smiled, knowing exactly where the other girl's eyes had taken a moment to pause at.

"Joanne. Joanne Jefferson," she replied, but did not take Maureen's hands. Instead she adjusted her blazer and looked down at the sidewalk to avoid Maureen's eyes. She wasn't quite sure what this Maureen character was doing and so she was a little stand offish. Furrowing her brow, Maureen slowly retracted her hand. This one was going to be a challenge. Maureen was up for the challenge though.

Maureen reached out and pinched the fabric of the blazer between her index finger and thumb. The material over Joanne's shoulder lifted lightly. "What's with the get up?" she asked, suppressing the urge to giggle.

Joanne looked offended. "These are my work clothes,"

"What do you…"

"I'm a lawyer,"

So Maureen had found herself a lawyer. She ran the thought through her mind. This could be little more difficult than she thought. Nodding, she smiled.

Joanne shifted uncomfortably, obviously not sure why this bohemian woman was even speaking to her. She did take note of her looks though. Maureen was beautiful. A strong set jaw line, notable cheek bones, and lush lips.

"So what is a lawyer, like yourself, doing down here at Avenue A?" Maureen asked sweetly.

The question seemed to catch her by surprise and Maureen watched, with a smirk, as Joanne's cheeks blushed. "I…uhm…well…" she stuttered along, searching for a way to explain herself.

"I noticed you were looking at the Catscratch Club," Maureen offered.

"Right," she paused a moment to readjust her blazer again, "I am doing some research. One of my clients works there,"

Joanne's eyes glided over the club. A shudder seemed to chill through her body at the sight. Even on the other side of the street, music could be heard easily. She sighed heavily.

Maureen continued smirking. "Well, aren't you going to go in?"

Joanne's palm spread across her forehead, her middle finger and thumb rubbing gently above her eyebrows. "Why do you care?" she asked, her voice sounding more tired and curious than irritated.

"Just curious," Maureen answered. Moving forward, she tugged on Joanne's arm. The lawyer looked down at Maureen's hand and followed her arm up until she met her eyes. Her look was questioning.

"Come on. I'll take you in there. Everyone knows me," she told her reassuringly, a smile on her face.

Dropping her eyes to the sidewalk, Joanne pondered the offer. Letting out a deep sigh, she nodded her head and began to follow Maureen as she tugged her along.

"Uh, thanks,"

"No problem at all!" Maureen beamed.

Reluctantly, Joanne followed Maureen along. As they entered the club, Joanne's face immediately fell toward the ground.

"Oh wow…"she mumbled.

"What?" Maureen asked loudly, bringing her lips close to Joanne's ear so the girl could here her. Maureen's breath caused butterflies in Joanne's stomach, but being professional, she completely ignored them and focused her gaze on the dancers. The look on her face made it seem like she was about to pass out.

Maureen giggled, at Joanne's open mouth and wide eyes. "So now you know what your client does," she said into her ear before pulling her toward the stage.

Joanne resisted at first, but Maureen wasn't about to give up. Before she realized it, they were sitting at a table right in front of the stage.

Men around them cat called and waved bundles of money as Mimi Marquez came down the stage. Maureen's eyes lit up with the Latino figure on the stage. Joanne on the other hand, averted her eyes and tried not to let them wonder from their lock on the table.

"Don't tell me you're straight," Maureen teased, leaning in toward Joanne. The lawyer brought her gaze up and almost bumped heads with Maureen. Her face blushed.

"Actually, I'm…"

Maureen let out an excited squeal. "You're a lesbian!"

Looking away again, Joanne could feel the heat in her cheeks rising. Maureen just beamed at the thought. She nudged the girl's side. "Hey Joanne, how bout a lap dance?" she offered with a smirk.

Joanne immediately shook her head. "I think not," she answered.

"Oooohhhh come on," Maureen pleaded, taking an a pouting expression.


	3. Chapter 3: Can I Stay With You?

_Disclaimer: I don't own Rent or any of Jonathon Larson's wonderful characters._

_Author's Note: I'm really sorry guys. My computer's internet stopped working and so I am now trying to get it fixed. I was able to used my mom's computer to update, but I don't know when I'll be able to again. It shouldn't be more than a week and a half though, sorry._

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_Chapter 3: Can I Stay with You?_

To Maureen's dismay, she was never able to coax Joanne into getting a lap dance, but she was able to get the lawyer to drink some alcohol. After four drinks each and two lap dances for Maureen, the two girls exited the club. The city was relatively dark, at least compared to when the sun was shining. They each had one arm resting comfortably around the other's waist.

"I guess you're not as uptight as I thought," Maureen commented with a smirk. Joanne smiled and shrugged slightly.

"I needed to get my mind off work anyway," Joanne mentioned, "So where do you live? Do you need me to walk you home?"

Maureen rolled her eyes, leaning her head on Joanne's shoulder. Going back to the loft meant facing Mark. That was the least thing she wanted to do right now.

"On Avenue A, but I'm seriously not into going home,"

"Then what are you suggesting?" Joanne asked curiously as the two came to a stop. A mischievous smirk played on Maureen's lips. She raised her head so she could look at Joanne. The two exchanged looks, meeting each other's eyes. Both knew perfectly well what the other wanted.

Breaking away from Joanne, Maureen did an off balance spin. Joanne chuckled at the drunk girl. Maureen sauntered back over to Joanne. Standing in front of the lawyer, she suggestively walked her index and middle finger up Joanne's arm.

"Don't you think it would be more fun if I came home with you?" Maureen suggested, locking gaze with Joanne and wearing a slight pout on her lips.

Joanne pondered for a moment, though she stared at Maureen. She chewed gently on her lower lip when she felt a familiar heat in her cheeks. Maureen giggled and cupped one of the girl's cheeks in her gloved hand.

"What are you blushing for?" she asked, giggling.

This only made Joanne blush more and she averted her eyes. A small smile came to her lips at the thought of taking Maureen home.

"Okay, okay,"

"So I can stay with you?" Maureen asked excitedly. A gentle nod was her answer.

An excited squeal escaped Maureen's lips and her pulled Joanne into a bone crushing embrace. Though a little surprised, Joanne let her arms slip around Maureen's back. Pulling back, Maureen kept her arms snaked around Joanne's neck and smiled at her.

The two stayed like this for a few moments, just trying to read what the other was thinking. Maureen was the first to move. She gently leaned forward, ready to bring her lips to Joanne's. Her heart was racing, but Joanne was completely ready to return the kiss. Their lips were dangerously close, on the verge of touching, when a voice sounded.

Maureen cringed at the sound, swirling her head back to the street that sat behind them. Her eyes quickly traveled up the fire escape of the apartment building and met Collins' eyes.

"What the hell are you doing?!" he called to her. His voice wasn't mad. He actually sounded somewhat amused. A marijuana joint sat between his lips and his elbows were leaning lazily on the railing.

With the sight of Collins, Joanne quickly let her hands drop and stepped back from Maureen. Lucky, she was behind Maureen from Collins' view so he couldn't see her that well. Joanne let her head bow.

_Perfect…Just fucking perfect…_

Her immediate thought was to assume this was Maureen's boyfriend. Maureen had flipped around and had her arms crossed over her chest. With a second glance realized that this man was smirking. And more than that, Maureen just looked annoyed rather than fearful.

"What the hell are you doing Collins!?" she called back. The large man just took another hit at his blunt and shook his head. He slipped down the fire escape quickly and hopped off the ladder onto the ground. Maureen bit her lip nervously. She didn't want Collins to actually meet Joanne; that would be bad.

The performer turned to Joanne, who was watching her. She had an apologetic look on her face. "I'll be right back," she reassured her.

Maureen hurried over to Collins and pulled him around so his back faced Joanne. Her expression was a mixture of annoyance, fear, and hope. "What?" she asked.

Collins chuckled, blowing smoke out of his mouth. He held the joint between his thumb and index finger. "You weren't about to do what I thought you were going to do?" he asked, quirking a brow.

"And what do you think I was about to do?"

"Kiss that guy," Collins answered, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at Joanne.

Her eyes furrowed before she started laughing. Maureen bowed her head, covering her mouth with one of her hands. Collins glared at her.

"What?" he asked, obviously oblivious to why she was laughing.

"Are you drunk?" Maureen asked, still giggling.

"Pffft, no."

"You're drunk as hell!"

While Maureen teased Collins about being a horrible mixture of drunk and high, Joanne waited patiently. Her hands rested in the pockets of her blazer. She figured that his man must just be a friend. Glancing up, she found Maureen laughing.

"I am not," he protested, his words almost slurring.

Maureen shook her head. "Of course you're not," she said sarcastically. She set a hand on Collins shoulder.

"Go back up to the loft and get some rest. I'll be back later, okay?"

"Mark isn't gonna like you running around with other guys," Collins warned her. Maureen stifled another giggle.

"Believe me, nothing is going to happen with me and any guys tonight," she assured.

She leaned up and kissed Collins cheek. He grinned in return. "I'll see you later big guy," she said, before moving past him.

"Take care of yourself," he told her, before heading off to the apartment.

Coming back over to Joanne, Maureen was still giggling. Joanne raised a brow.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"Just fine. That's my buddy Collins. He's insanely drunk," she answered with a wide smile. Maureen glanced over her shoulder to see Collins heading back up the fire escape.

"So let's get outta the cold, huh?" Maureen suggested. She took Joanne's hand and laced their fingers. Joanne nodded, a smile of her own appearing.

"My place is across town," she told Maureen as they began to walk down the street. Joanne flagged down a cab. The two slipped into the back seat and Joanne gave their destination to the Irish cab driver.

Before the cab even started to move, Joanne could feel herself becoming nervous. She had never been one to bring home one night stands. Maureen seemed so calm. It made her rather worried. She could only figure that Maureen was used to doing this, but she was _not._ Though she assumed the situation would be awkward, Maureen had a certain presence that seemed to calm the awkwardness, but not nervousness.

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Meanwhile, back at the loft, Collins re-entered the apartment from fire escape. Roger had headed off to bed awhile ago, but a distressed Mark sat on the couch. He was anxiously fiddling with his camera. When Collins entered, he only look up for a moment. His expression was a little disappointed, like he expected Maureen instead.

"Pumpkin head albino fucker, why don't you stop moping around like your puppy just died," Collins suggested. He moved over and plopped down on the couch.

Mark sneered, but kept his eyes on the camera. Collins wrapped his arm around Mark's shoulder and held his joint with his other hand.

"Come on boy-oh! Are you still fretting about Maureen?"

Letting out a deep sigh, Mark nodded. Collins pulled him a little closer. "She just out drinking," he assured.

"Yeah and is probably all over any guy within ten feet of her,"

"Give her some credit Mark. She cares about you, but you know…you haven't exactly been giving her the time of day,"

"But everything isn't always about her and Roger needs me,"

"She just wants a little bit of her attention,"

"I've got to take care of Roger…"

"Well maybe you should do something for her. Like a romantic dinner. I mean, it's not like Roger isn't alone sometimes and if you're that worried I can always watch him,"

"Yeah…maybe…"Mark said, a certain hope lighting in his eyes.

The filmmaker stood and went toward his bedroom. He thanked Collins before going off to bed.

Collins shook his head gently. He wasn't about to rat out Maureen, but he felt slightly bad for leading Mark on. Being to lazy to go to his bedroom, he put out the small bit that was left of the joint in the ash tray on the table and laid back on the couch. He let out a sigh.


	4. Chapter 4: Fuck, My Head Hurts

_Disclaimer: I don't own Rent or its characters._

_Author's Note: My computer is finally fixed! Hooray! Anyway, so hopefully I'll be able to get updates more often. Thanks for the reviews and all the story alerts and favorites. I'm so sorry about the shortness, but I'm having a bit of trouble getting to the next event in the story. I promise the next one will be a decent length. And now I give you chapter four._

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Maureen had laid her head against Joanne's shoulder with a content smile spread over her lips. The diva was completely relaxed. She couldn't have been happier to have met Joanne. There was a feeling welling in her stomach that she couldn't quite place, but she liked it. What Maureen was feeling for the first time in her life were butterflies (that were caused by another person). She nearly thought the feeling was due to her drunken state, but she then realized that she had been around many people when she was drunk and not once had she felt something like this.

Staring down at Maureen, Joanne was caught up in the moment. She had forgotten for just a moment she was drunk, on her way home with a girl she didn't know, and she would probably never see Maureen again in her life. Joanne bit down gently on her lower lip. Her arm was draped around Maureen's shoulder. The position felt so comfortable. She could not recall a time she felt so connected with, well, a stranger. Her heart was racing, but not from sex drive like she supposed she should have been feeling. Instead, she had a sensation of wanting to get to know this girl, to get inside her head, to really understand Maureen Johnson.

The cab ride took a good fifteen minutes or so and the whole time the two women stayed in a relaxing silence. When the car finally stopped, Maureen lazily lifted her head from Joanne's shoulder. The lawyer easily produced the money to pay the cab driver and the two exited the vehicle.

It was apparent that Maureen was tired. She leaned into Joanne like the girl was the only thing keeping her standing; not that Joanne minded. The darker woman found herself stealing glances down at Maureen as they made their way toward the apartment.

Looking up at the apartment building before them, Maureen was well aware that Joanne lived in a much classier part of town compared to her. For the first time in a long while she felt slightly intimidated. Joanne seemed not to notice and began to move forward, Maureen's fingers laced with her own.

"Here we are," Joanne broke the silence. Maureen flashed her a confident smile.

"Nice place," she commented. Her head lifted again from Joanne's shoulder to survey her surroundings. The street was even fairly clean. This was definitely not anything like her own Avenue A. Though still feeling tired, Maureen could feel butterflies becoming stronger and stronger in her stomach. She swallowed hard as Joanne led her toward the door.

Joanne's apartment was on the fourth floor. Unlike the crappy building that provided home to Maureen and the other bohemians, this building was nicely done. The walls were painted a refreshing white and wooden floors lined the halls. Each door was decorated with a silver number in cursive.

They stopped at door number 16.

A key was produced and the door swung open after a familiar click.

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"He's really that mad?…_Uuuuggghhh_, Collins stop yelling…She's you are…Fuck, my head hurts…Okay, okay I get it…No I didn't…Seriously!…I slept on the couch…Fuck you…I'm sorry, it's just early and my head feels like it got run over my a fucking steam roller…Yeah…I'll be home later…_YES_, I'll hurry…Jesus, get off my back…"

Click.

Index and middle fingers found their tips massaging into Maureen's temples. Her hair was messy, she was dressed in only her bra and underwear, and she wasn't quite sure what happened after she had entered the apartment. She glanced over at the brown, leather couch she had woken up on. Had she really slept on the couch, alone? She smirked

"What kind of one night stand is this?" she mumbled to herself. Standing, she stressed her arms above her head. Her eyes took in the apartment like it was the first time she had ever seen in. Maureen went forward and dropped down onto the couch.

She stared at the black screen of the television in front of her. "Man, Joanne must be loaded," she said to the empty room. That when it struck her that she was at Joanne's.

Jumping up, Maureen turned behind her and saw the door that faced the back of the couch. Without much thought, she assumed it was the bedroom. She hurried over to the door and slowly turned the brass handle.

Adrenaline was suddenly coursing through her. She couldn't figure out why she was not in bed with Joanne. Glancing down at her body, she noted that she was at least half dressed. Pushing the door open she peered in.


	5. Chapter 5: What Did We Drink Last Night?

_Disclaimer: Don't own RENT_

_Author's Note: So I am the worst updater ever. -sigh- But here's the fifth chapter._

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Joanne was sitting up on a queen size bed. The blanket was over her lower body and her head was resting in her hands. Her hair was messy, her shirt was twisted, and she was mumbling something about too many shots. She looked up groggily to see Maureen in her doorway.

"Morning…"Maureen said, her heart racing. Joanne blinked and then gave her a lazy smile.

"I wish. My head is killing me," the lawyer commented.

"Mine too. What the hell did we drink last night?" she asked, suddenly relieved that Joanne wasn't mad or didn't remember her. She made her way over and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Pfft, everything…I see you didn't bother to get dressed,"

Maureen's cheeks flushed lightly. That was odd. She was never embarrassed, but something about sitting in her undergarments was making her self conscious. Trying to push the thoughts away, she shrugged.

"Uh..Joanne…What exactly happened last night? I can't exactly remember…"

"Because you were completely wasted," Joanne noted with a smirk. "We got back her. Took a few shots of…something…then you stripped down to your underwear saying you were hot, and then you crashed on the couch."

Furrowing her brows, Maureen stared at Joanne. "We didn't do _anything_?"

Joanne smirked. "Nope. You were way to tired,"

"Thank God. I thought you kicked me out of the bedroom or something," Maureen said with relief and all seriousness. Joanne chuckled, but held her head.

"I'm not that much of a jerk," Joanne replied. Her heart had begun to race and she could feel butterflies building in her stomach. She gazed at Maureen, who was looking at the floor. Her breath caught momentarily. Even without make-up and hung over as hell, Maureen was still the most beautiful girl she had ever seen.

"Well I have to admit, I've had a one night stand like this. We didn't even kiss?" Maureen asked, bringing her eyes up from the floor to meet Joanne's. The lawyer flushed gently and shook her head, avoiding the dark eyes that were staring at her.

Maureen drummed her fingers on the mattress. She had never been so nervous in her life. Swallowing, to wet her suddenly dry throat, she watched Joanne carefully.

The lawyer brought her eyes up to Maureen's after a few moments of silence. Just looking into the other's eyes made her heart race. She knew exactly what they were both thinking.

Very slowly, Maureen leaned toward Joanne. Her body stiffened for a moment, but then Joanne relaxed a bit as their lips met.

The kiss was simple, only their lips meeting, but it was nothing like either one could describe. Maureen finally understood the concept of time standing still. The whole world seemed to freeze for them. Her heart was beating so fast, she was afraid it would burst out of her chest. She had never felt anything like that before. It felt as though electricity pulsed through her body.

Pulling back, Maureen took in a deep breath. Joanne's eyes just as her's were and their gazes met. Neither one moved for a long moment. Maureen eyes moved first, to the floor.

"Thanks for letting me stay here,"

"No problem. Really," Joanne answered. She was trying to control the beat of her heart and looked at the ceiling. Letting out a deep breath, she started to regain her composure.

"I'm sorry to just up and leave, but I have to head home. My friend needs some help," Maureen explained. A part of her wanted to stay, but a larger part was too afraid of what she felt to explore it farther. She stood slowly, glancing back at Joanne.

Joanne nodded slightly, her heart feeling as through it fell into her stomach as Maureen spoke. Suddenly, she was afraid she'd never see Maureen again. She took in a deep breath and stood along with Maureen.

"Of course," she assured the girl it was alright to go.

They made their way out into the living room. Joanne fixed the short-sleeved shirt she had on, as well as the black, silky pajama bottoms that covered her legs. Maureen redressed in the clothing she had originally been wearing. The two entered into the kitchen, Joanne insisting Maureen take something for her head ache.

"Really, I'm fine," Maureen insisted, though winced when the sun light from the window it her face.

"Yeah right," Joanne replied with a slight chuckle.

Joanne got Maureen some Advil and a large glass of water. The diva downed the two extra strength pills and half the glass of water. "Thanks,"

"Couldn't let you leave with a massive head ache,"

Sighing, Maureen looked at the clock that was placed on the wall. Two PM. "Well fuck…we slept longer than I though," Maureen mentioned with a sheepish smile.

Joanne noted the time and nodded. She was dreading Maureen leaving, but couldn't possibly kept the girl there.

"I better get going," Maureen said sadly.

"Yeah, it's getting late,"

"I'll call you tomorrow?" Maureen asked, before she even realized words had left her mouth. She blushed lightly, but it fading when she saw the smile and hopeful look on Joanne's face.

"Uh..yeah…sure. Here's my number," Joanne responded. It was like a weight had been lifted off her chest. Just the thought of hearing Maureen's voice again made her heart beat fast. She grabbed a small notepad, scribbled down her number, and handed it to Maureen.

The two exchanged smiles, before they moved toward the front door. Maureen grabbed the door knob, but turned to look at Joanne. "Though I was thinking things would go a little differently, I have a good time," she said shyly.

Joanne chuckled. "Me too," she replied.

Maureen opened the door, but kept her eyes on Joanne. She leaned in and placed a quick kiss on the girl's lips before slipping out the door.

"See you later," she said confidently, winking at the girl. The door closed behind her as she moved down the hall way. Although she seemed confident, she felt anything but that. She actually felt pretty vulnerable.

As she made her way into the elevator, she had a huge smile plastered on her lips. She was nearly skipping by the time she was out on the street. "I've got tell Collins about this!" she said out loud to no one.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She stood there, staring at the door that was closed in front of her. In her mind, Maureen winking was imprinted. Joanne put a hand over her heart to make sure it was still beating. A smile pulled across her lips as she moved back into the apartment.

Plopping down on the couch, she let out a happy sigh. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. "That was better than most one night stands I've had," she muttered with a chuckle.


End file.
